


A Colony, a Babysitter, and an Old Rivalry

by TheFreakZone



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFreakZone/pseuds/TheFreakZone
Summary: England needs a last-minute babysitter for Gibraltar, and Spain offers himself. Let's leave a colony with the country that's been trying to claim it back for over three centuries— what could possibly go wrong? One-shot.





	

**A Colony, a Babysitter, and an Old Rivalry**

France sighed as he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. It was almost nine— they were supposed to be on the road by then! Just what was his almost-boyfriend-but-not-really doing?

"Arthur!" he called, hoping his voice would reach him. "Come on, we're going to miss our reservation!" He could have sworn that he heard a muffled reply, but it was too faint to understand anything. "Did you say something?!"

"Yes!"

A few seconds later, a visibly stressed England made his appearance. He was already dressed— suit and tie, as elegant as always, not a single wrinkle on his clothes. France eyed him intensely, his mind wandering to all the different ways in which he could take them off. Subconsciously, he scratched his stubble as a far-from-innocent smile grew on his lips; meanwhile, England cursed in a way that didn't quite fit with the image of gentleman he tried to give.

"I said that I urgently need a babysitter for Alexander," he grunted, taking out his mobile phone and scrolling through his contacts.

"You knew we were going out a week ago," France protested. "You've had plenty of time to ask someone!"

"And I did! Belgium was going to come! But she just texted me: Luxembourg and the Netherlands are both sick and she has to take care of them."

France muttered something under his breath, checking his watch again. It had cost him a lot to get them a reservation at a very fancy restaurant— if they didn't make it on time, he'd probably cry. Why did Gibraltar even need a babysitter? And why was England so keen on keeping him anyway? He was literally a rock, for God's sake! A rock in a pretty strategical position, true, but a rock nonetheless.

"Alfred? Hi," England said, distracting France from his thoughts, his phone pressed to his ear. "I'm fine, thanks— Actually, I wanted to ask you for a favour— Yes, Alfred, yes, I need a hero," he sighed, knowing by the way France's eyes lit up that he had decided which song they were going to listen to in the car. "Could you babysit Alexander? It won't be long— Yes, tonight— What do you mean you have plans?" His brow furrowed, his expression turning more annoyed and stressed at every second. "Matthew and you are going _where_? I think you mean _football_ — It's _not_ soccer! Oh, shut up— I take it you both are busy, then—? Okay, well, thanks anyway. And Alfred? It's called _football_ , goddammit!"

"I can't believe you'd trust America to take care of a kid," France commented casually.

England completely ignored him while he dialled another number; but he did glare at his date as he pressed once again the phone to his ear.

"Hello, my dearest brother! How are you toni—? _I don't want to ask you for money, you stingy savage_! No, no, no, no, no, don't hang up! Please, Alistair, I do need to ask you for a favour— You're busy? Come on, Scotland, I need someone to take care of Gibraltar— You're hanging out with Wales? And both Irelands too?! Why the heck wasn't I invited?! I'm your brother too, you fucking—!" He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the phone, surprised. "He hung up on me!" he exclaimed, indignant.

"How dare him?" France grinned, his words dripping sarcasm. "Who would be crazy enough to hang up on someone who speaks to them so politely?"

"You shut the fuck up or I'm cancelling the whole thing."

As England started to look for another potential babysitter, France sighed and pulled out his phone.

* * *

**Group chat: BTT aka the Awesome Gilbert and those two other dudes**

**Francis:** is any of you free tonight?

 **Antonio:** I'm always free for you ;) ;) ;)

 **Francis:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **Antonio:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **Francis:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **Gilbert:** I am free! I thought you were going out with Eyebrows though

 **Antonio:** same

 **Francis:** we're having a little emergency here

 **Gilbert:** need condoms?

 **Francis:** hopefully later, but not now

 **Antonio:** what's up?

 **Francis:** he needs a babysitter

 **Gilbert:** wow, I knew he was a brat, but not to that extent

 **Antonio:** hahahahaha good one, Gil

 **Gilbert:** I know

 **Francis:** I laughed and I think Arthur thought I was laughing at him and now he's glaring daggers at me  
**Francis:** if you don't hear from me again, just assume he murdered me  
**Francis:** murdered by my own lover, wouldn't that be tragic?

 **Gilbert:** omg Francis shut up  
**Gilbert:** why does Eyebrows need a babysitter anyway?

 **Francis:** he doesn't want to leave Gibraltar alone

 **Antonio:** I'M FREE TELL HIM I'M FREE AND WILLING TO BABYSIT  
**Antonio:** FRANCIS TELL HIM RIGHT NOW  
**Antonio:** I'LL WRITE YOU DOWN ON THE BITCH BOOK IF YOU DON'T

* * *

Francis laughed discretely at his friend's words. He should have guessed that Antonio would have that reaction— if there was one thing more incomprehensible than England wanting to keep that rock, it was Spain's fixation with getting it back. He heard Arthur whine and looked up at him as he dropped his phone on a table and his head on his hands.

"I can't find a fucking babysitter!" he complained. "America and Canada are going to a football game; all my siblings are out partying _without me_ ; New Zealand is having a Lord of the Rings marathon with Australia; Japan is going out with Italy and Germany; Norway is with Sweden and Finland, who are with Sealand, and I _don't_ want such a bad influence on Gibraltar. Is every fucking country busy today or what?!"

France watched him rant, amused, and waited until he was finished to speak:

"Spain's free."

"What?"

"Spain's free," he repeated, calmly. "And willing to babysit."

Arthur remained completely still, processing what he had been told. He blinked, then he looked around, then he looked at France.

"Spain," he said, slowly. "Are you really suggesting that I leave Gibraltar with _Spain_?"

"Well, it's him or Prussia," he shrugged. "And there's no one else available, you just said that. Come on, Arthur," he pouted, "I've been planning this date for a long time."

England took a deep breath. And, fully knowing he would regret it, nodded.

* * *

**Group chat: BTT aka the Awesome Gilbert and those two other dudes**

**Francis:** Antonio, the job's yours  
**Francis:** come to Arthur's as fast as you can

 **Antonio:** oh I'm already there

 **Francis:** what

 **Antonio:** I left home as soon as you said "Gibraltar"

 **Gilbert:** dude you're obsessed

 **Antonio:** HE WAS MINE AND ENGLAND HAD NO RIGHT TO TAKE HIM  
**Antonio:** I DIDN'T EVEN LOSE THAT WAR WTF

 **_Antonio changed the group name from "_ ** **BTT aka the Awesome Gilbert and those two other dudes** **_" to "_ ** **GIBRALTAR ESPAÑOL** **_"_ **

**Francis:** could you please stop ranting and come in?  
**Francis:** I'm already going to have to break a few speed limits to get to the restaurant in time  
**Francis:** I can't afford to keep losing time

 **Antonio:** coming!

 **Gilbert:** that's what she said :D

* * *

Spain knocked the door loudly, his usual happy smile shining on his face. He couldn't believe he was going to have the chance to spend a few hours with Gibraltar! Usually, England made sure that he stood away— he hadn't seen the kid in ages! This was going to be his one and only chance to make his former territory want to be with him again.

The door swung open and France greeted him.

"Thanks for coming, Toni," he said, moving aside to let him come in. "I owe you one."

"Actually, I think it's me the one who owes you one," Spain replied, winking. "Where's Alejandro?"

"His name is Alexander," a cold voice grunted from the corridor. England came soon afterwards, throwing on his coat, and followed a very impatient France as he opened the door to leave. Before stepping out, however, he turned to his improvised babysitter to say one last thing. "You'd better not try anything funny," he warned.

Spain only smiled at him, not missing the suspicious glance England threw at his backpack, and waved him goodbye. Before closing the door, Arthur pointed at his eyes and then at Antonio in a silent threat. The Spaniard's smile only grew wider.

Finally, the door was closed and the sound of a car leaving at a not very advisable speed reached his ears. Quickly, he fished a small notebook out of his pocket and opened it at the last written page. It was hard to read, since he had been writing it on the run and at night, but he knew exactly what he had put down on words.

_HOW TO WIN GIBRALTAR BACK_

_A guide by Spain_

_The fact that after 300 years I don't have him back means nothing_

If only he had had more time to prepare himself… It lacked planning, that was for sure, but he couldn't risk being late and let England find another babysitter. He would just have to improvise some bits.

_STEP 1: approach the target. Be nice and lovable. Show him that you're much nicer than England_

"Alejandro!" he called. "Where are you?"

He heard a muffled shout, then the sound of steps, and then Gibraltar came into the hall. He was already wearing his pyjamas, some very warm and comfy-looking pants and a shirt with the famous _Abbey Road_ picture. His light-brown hair was well combed, and his green eyes looked at Spain, questioning.

"I thought Belgium was going to come," he commented.

"She was, but she could make it, so— here I am!"

"Oh, alright," the kid shrugged. "Do you want to take off your coat?"

Spain nodded and followed Gibraltar as he took his coat to hang it in a cupboard. _He's so cute_ , he thought while he watched him stand on the tip of his toes to reach the hangers. _Another proof that he's more like me than like England_.

In truth, it was hard to tell with whom the colony shared more similarities. He did have big eyebrows, which would make anyone look like England, and his hair sometimes shone much blonder than anything else; however, his green eyes were a shade closer to Antonio's, and his skin was almost as tanned as his. In the end, it depended on the day— except for England and Spain, who always claimed that he looked more like themselves. They had stopped bickering about it in public after Hungary had pointed out that, if they had a child, he'd look exactly like Gibraltar, but they still argued from time to time. France, as the one's lover and the other's best friend, was always caught in the middle, and had become an expert in stopping the discussion by dropping sexual innuendos after every sentenced they said.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Spain asked. "Come on, now that England's not here, you can do everything he never lets you do— I won't say anything," he winked.

"Isn't your job to make sure that I don't do those things?"

Taken aback by that reply, Spain scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to say. "Yes, I guess you're right…" He shrugged. "But I'm much less strict than England, and I'm more fun to be around, and I'm more handsome, and I'm better to live with, and I'm more open-minded, and…" he trailed off. Spain, King of Humility and Master of Subtlety. That should be his new name.

"Uh, well…" Gibraltar looked at him with a weird face. "We can play a board game," he suggested.

"Okay!" he smiled. "As long as it's not _Monopoly_. I suck at that game."

"Cool! Wait in the living room, I'll go get a game."

Spain did as he was told. He sat on the couch and pulled out his notebook. He ticked the step one, although he wasn't sure if he had actually accomplished it, and checked what came next (and last— he had never been good at planning stuff):

_STEP 2: try to improve his Spanish side, make it outshine his English side_

"I rarely play this game," the kid's voice reached him, "but England said you'd like it." Soon after, he came into the room carrying a big carton box, which he set on the table between them.

When he had heard the words, Spain had been confused. Why would England, of all people, suggest playing a game he'd enjoy? However, the moment he saw the name of the game, he understood everything. _Será capullo…_ he thought, feeling his face growing hot.

Gibraltar kept talking happily, unaware of Spain's face of pure hatred. "It's called _Battleships_ , and basically you have to sink the opponent's ships."

Spain's eye twitched.

"I— I don't like that game," he muttered, twisting the end of his t-shirt while imagining it was the neck of a certain Englishman.

"Oh." Gibraltar looked at him, then at the game, and then he shrugged. "Okay, then we can play something else." He took the box and left.

Pissed off, Spain took his phone out of his pocket, ready to let go all of his anger.

* * *

**Group chat: GIBRALTAR ESPAÑOL**

**Antonio:** Francis, I'm sorry, but I'm going to murder Arthur

 **Gilbert:** lol what happened?

 **Antonio:** he told Alejandro the we should play a game  
**Antonio:** he told him I'd like it  
**Antonio:** IT WAS FUCKING BATTLESHIPS  
**Antonio:** YOU KNOW, THAT GAME IN WHICH YOU HAVE TO SINK SHIPS  
**Antonio:** IT'S NOT FUNNY

 **Gilbert:** ssshh Toni calm down  
**Gilbert:** remember 1741  
**Gilbert:** I mean, the Invincible Armada was such a fail, and don't get me started on Trafalgar

 **Antonio:** GILBERT, THAT'S NOT HELPING

 **Gilbert:** your missing my point

 **Francis:** you're*

 **Antonio:** joder, Francis, you've been reading the whole thing and all you've done is correct Gilbert's grammar?

 **Gilbert:** what I'm trying to say is that you fucked him well in 1741  
**Gilbert:** focus on the victories, man

 **Francis:** can't text too much  
**Francis:** Arthur's getting mad

 **Antonio:** SERVES HIM GOOD  
**Antonio:** TELL HIM TO GO FUCK HIMSELF  
**Antonio:** AND TELL HIM THAT BLAS DE LEZO SENDS HIS REGARDS

* * *

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to play?" Gibraltar called from another room. "I don't really mind, as long as I like it!"

"I don't know!" he yelled back. "What kind of games do you have?"

"Come and see them!"

Spain followed his voice to a big room that held a lot of shelves, which were filled with books, movies and games. Everything seemed to disappear, though, the moment his gaze landed on what stood on the end of the room.

"I want to play that! Do you like it?"

Gibraltar followed his look, a bit confused by the sudden enthusiasm. It took him a moment to understand what Spain was talking about.

"The table football? Yeah, sure, why not."

As they walked to the table, Spain took in a deep breath. _Okay, time to put the step two into practice!_ He took off his hoodie to reveal a white t-shirt with the silhouette of a bull on it; then, as he chose a side of the table, he leant on it and looked at Gibraltar, smiling.

"Do you like this game?"

"Yes," he shrugged. "It's fun."

"Well, it's a Spanish invention, you know?" he said, straightening a little to show his t-shirt.

"Is it?" The kid looked surprised, his eyebrows up and his mouth slightly open. After a moment, he frowned. "But England always says it's a British invention…"

Spain's smile froze.

"Yeah, well, England has the bad habit of taking my stuff and calling it his."

If Gibraltar caught the whole meaning of that phrase, he didn't let it show— he simply shrugged again and placed his hands on the handlers.

"Are we playing or not?"

"In a moment! First, I want you to know another Spanish invention." He winked at him before shoving his hand into his backpack and pulling out a bunch of lollipops. "Ta-daa! _Chupachups_!"

The kid's face lit up at the sight of the candy and reached out to take it. However, Spain moved them out of his reach before he could grab them and smiled playfully at him.

"Not so fast! What's the magic word?"

"Please…" he pouted.

"Not that one," Spain shook his head.

It took Gibraltar a moment to understand what the other wanted him to say. He frowned, but Spain wiggled the lollipops and he gave in.

" _Por favor_ ," he muttered.

"There you go!"

The frown was instantly replaced by a happy smile the moment his hands grabbed the sweets. Spain laughed and ruffled his hair —his overly combed hair— as he opened one.

"Do you like it?"

The kid nodded, happily licking his treat. "Thank you," he said between lick and lick; when Spain pouted, he corrected himself: " _Gracias_."

" _De nada_ ," Spain laughed. "Hey, do you want to know something else about those?"

"What?"

"The logo was designed by Salvador Dalí himself!" Spain exclaimed proudly. He saw Gibraltar frown, though, and his enthusiasm fell a little. "Don't you know who Dalí is?"

The kid looked at the ceiling, as if it held the answers to all the questions of the universe, and pondered for a while, an eternity of anguish for Spain. Finally, he looked back at him.

"Is he the guy who painted the melting clocks—?"

"Yes!"

Spain raised his hand for a high-five, which he received from a very excited Gibraltar. The table football forgotten (to be honest, Spain didn't really want to play it— it had just been the perfect excuse to bring out the topic), they moved to a small couch.

"Come on, is there anything else you'd like to know about me? I have a pretty cool history," Spain smiled, while deep inside thinking: _Please, don't ask about 1588; please, don't ask about the Invincible Armada; please, please, please_ —

"Hmm— well, I did want to ask you something."

 _Please, don't ask about Trafalgar either; please, forget those two events ever happened; oh, please, please, please, ask about Blas de Lezo, please_ —

"It's something England was talking about the other day."

 _Oh, crap. What's it going to be: Invincible or Trafalgar?_ Mierda _, I can't look cool talking about horrendous defeats, what am I going to do? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_ —

"What's _Peblo_?"

Spain's mind went blank for a moment, and his whole world seemed to freeze. He blinked slowly; once, twice. He looked at Gibraltar, who looked at him with big, questioning eyes. He looked at his hands, resting on his lap while his nervous fingers played with his clothes. He swallowed. And then, with a small voice, he answered with what wasn't exactly a lie:

"Politics."

"Oh."

The kid looked disappointed, which saddened Spain, but he just couldn't tell him exactly what it was. Gibraltar stood up and walked away.

"I have to go to the toilet."

"Okay."

When he was out of sight, Spain quickly pulled out his phone. He had a few unread messages; and he wanted to send some others.

* * *

**Group chat: GIBRALTAR ESPAÑOL**

**Francis:** I told him what you said  
**Francis:** the Blas de Lezo thing  
**Francis:** he says that Horatio Nelson wishes you a merry Christmas

 **Gilbert:** that's mean  
**Gilbert:** I suggest we prank him next week

 **Francis:** wait until he's not willing to go out with me and gives me a stupid excuse  
**Francis:** THAT'S when we attack

 **Antonio:** Francis, your boyfriend's an asshole

* * *

**Group chat: Peblo Fan Club :3**

**Antonio:** Arthur I hate you a lot

 **Emma:** what happened?

 **Antonio:** he knows what happened

 **Elizaveta:** let me guess, it has something to do with Gibraltar

 **Arthur:** hahaha did he ask you to play Battleships? XD

 **Antonio:** go fuck yourself

 **Vincent:** that was a good one Arthur  
**Vincent:** congratulations

 **Antonio:** Viiiiinceeeeent D:  
**Antonio:** why must you always be so mean to me

 **Gilbert:** maybe because you denied him his independence for so long and you beat him at the final of the world cup

 **Francis:** Gil, we need to work on your sense of opportunity

 **Antonio:** :'(  
**Antonio:** anyway, that's not what I was talking about  
**Antonio:** although I'm pretty mad at you for that too

 **Arthur:** what? Is the kid too well-mannered for you to deal with?

 **Lovino:** ARE YOU IMPLYING SOMETHING?

 **Feliciano:** sssh Lovi don't make a fuss

 **Lovino:** I'LL MAKE WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT  
**Lovino:** STUPID EYEBROWS, IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, SAY IT TO MY FACE

 **Arthur:** Okay :)  
**Arthur:** I'll visit you tomorrow :)

 **Lovino:** ew don't put smileys, you creep-ass

 **Antonio:** for fuck's sake, Arthur, stop giving me reasons to break your face

 **Francis:** don't do that, it's so anti-aesthetic  
**Francis:** and then I have to take care of him  
**Francis:** and he gets all touchy when I'm taking care of him  
**Francis:** … actually, do it

 **Arthur:** Francis, you're sitting right in front of me, be careful or it might be you the one who ends up being hurt

 **Francis:** okay, you know I like that ;)

 **Gilbert:** EW

 **Lovino:** EW

 **Elizaveta:** awe aren't you two the cutest couple ever?

 **Antonio:** I thought those were Lovi and I

 **Elizaveta:** that too

 **Antonio:** and Peblo  
**Antonio:** which is what I was texting you guys in the first place

 **Emma:** oh, don't tell me that…

 **Antonio:** ENGLAND WHY THE FUCK DID GIBRALTAR ASK ME WHAT IS PEBLO?

 **Arthur:** lol

 **Antonio:** Don't "lol" me! He said you were talking about it the other day!

 **Arthur:** I might have mentioned it, yes  
**Arthur:** but not to him  
**Arthur:** he must have overheard it

 **Elizaveta:** have you told him?

 **Antonio:** of course not!

 **Feliciano:** tell him and our groupies squad will grow! :D

 **Arthur:** I refuse to let my kid get intoxicated with that Spanish nonsense

 **Antonio:** YOUR kid?

 **Vincent:** you're like an old-married couple

 **Lovino:** say that again and I'll kick you

 **Francis:** say that again and you'll kill them

 **Elizaveta:** more like an old-divorced marriage  
**Elizaveta:** fighting over their child's custody

 **Antonio:** que os den  
**Antonio:** Spain out

 **Gilbert:** please Arthur let Toni babysit little Alex more often  
**Gilbert:** this is the most fun I've had in days

* * *

Spain put his phone back in his pocket, annoyed. When he heard the sound of the toilet flushing, however, he tried to put a cheerful expression once again. The one who was always frowning was England, not him! He had to show Gibraltar that he was much nicer! He smiled widely at the kid as he came into the room once again.

"What do you want to do now, Alejandro?"

Gibraltar tilted his head and looked at him with a weird face.

"Why do always call me that?" he asked.

"Well— that's your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, but everyone else calls me Alex. Except for Arthur, he always calls me Alexander," he shrugged. "You two are weird."

"Are we?" he laughed. "Maybe." Then he had an idea. _Step two still going!_ "Hey, which one do you like better: Alejandro or Alexander?"

"Alex."

"No, no, just between Alejandro and Alexander."

"I'd rather be called just Alex."

"Okay, but if you had to choose _only_ Alejandro or Alexander, which one would it be?"

"I don't know. Neither."

Realizing that he wasn't going anywhere, Spain decided to change tactics:

"I think you should go by Alejandro."

"Why?"

"It's more beautiful!"

"If you say so…"

"It is! And it sounds sexier," he winked at him, laughing when a slight blush tinted his cheeks. "What was Lady Gaga's song called, eh? _Alejandro_ , not _Alexander_."

"Hum." Gibraltar seemed to consider it for a moment; then he shrugged. "I guess you're right. I still like more being called Alex, though."

"Fair enough," Spain smiled, while internally congratulating himself for that small victory. It wouldn't change how the whole world called the small colony, but now he liked his Spanish name more than his English one— ten points for Spain! "Anyway, what do you want to do now? Are you tired?"

"Not really. Maybe we could— Oh, I know!" He ran to a shelf filled with videogames and took one. "Let's play _Just Dance_! That way we'll get tired and sleep deeply!"

Spain's face brightened up. He didn't need to get tired to sleep deeply, but he did like dancing; and, more important than anything else, the game had given him an idea.

"Do you want to dance? I can show you a very cool dance, if you want. You'll kill it at parties with it!"

"Okay!"

He asked for him to get some speakers ("Don't worry, I have the song in my phone") and started to stretch, ready to show off his skills. He opened the music player and looked for the song, letting it ready to play, and checked his messages.

* * *

**Group chat: GIBRALTAR ESPAÑOL**

**Gilbert:** hey Toni how's it going  
**Gilbert:** ?  
**Gilbert:** Tooooooniiiiiiii  
**Gilbert:** come on, man, I'm BORED

 **Antonio:** hello, my dearest friends  
**Antonio:** I'm about to subdue Gibraltar to the highest expression of Spanish culture

 **Gilbert:** are you going to accuse him of witchcraft and burn him alive?

 **Antonio:** dude wtf

 **_Gilbert changed the group name from "_ ** **GIBRALTAR ESPAÑOL** **_" to "_ ** **Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!** **_"_ **

**Antonio:** … I hate to admit this, but those guys were pretty funny  
**Antonio:** this has nothing to do with the Inquisition though

 **Francis:** I think I know what you're going to do and I know for sure that Arthur's not going to like it  
**Francis:** please do it

* * *

Spain left the phone just as Gibraltar came into the room carrying two speakers.

"Here they are," he announced, placing them on a table and plugging them. "You have to plug your phone here," he said, handing him a cable.

Spain took it and did as he was told. Once everything was ready, he told the kid to stand in the middle of the room; then, he pressed the play button and rushed to his side.

"Just follow my steps, yes?" he instructed while the familiar beat flooded the room. "It's very easy, you'll see."

The music sounded for a few seconds, in which Gibraltar waited expectantly for Spain to move. He had to wait until the lyrics started, however, to finally see the oh-so-famous dance.

" _Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena_ —"

"Come on! Move your hands! Like this!"

"— _que tu cuerpo es pa darle alegría y cosa buena_ —"

Gibraltar moved off-beat, trying to imitate every movement that the overly excited Spaniard made. He could tell that his babysitter had danced it _a lot_.

"— _dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena_ —"

"—eeeeh Macarena, aaay!" Spain sang along.

After the same moves were repeated twice, Gibraltar seemed to get the dance and began to move in sync with Spain, which made him so proud. "You're doing great!", he would cry out from time to time, when he wasn't busy singing. They danced the whole four minutes once, then they did it again; when they finished, they were both panting and smiling.

"Isn't it the best dance _ever_?"

"It's great," he managed to say between gasps.

"I know!"

They practically dragged themselves to the sofa, where Spain sat and dragged Gibraltar to his lap. The kid laughed and let himself rest against the other, exhausted.

"I'm pretty tired now," he yawned.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

"In a minute."

"Okay," Spain chuckled, placing a kiss on his forehead. When the kid was already half-asleep, he reached for his phone and discretely took a picture of them.

* * *

**Group chat: Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!**

**Antonio:** *image*

 **Gilbert:** aaaw look at you two!

 **France:** awe~  
**Francis:** I wish Arthur would look that cute  
**Francis:** can I show him the picture?

 **Antonio:** sure  
**Antonio:** and let envy rot him :)

 **Francis:** he says he wishes you were dead

 **Gilbert:** that's so un-awesome

 **Antonio:** tell him he'll have to stand me for a few more centuries

 **Francis:** I don't think he liked hearing that XD

* * *

Spain left the phone when he felt Gibraltar's body squirm. The kid opened his eyes and looked at him sleepily.

"Bed?" he asked softly.

Gibraltar nodded slowly. Knowing that he was too tired, Spain picked him up and carried him to his room, where he left him carefully on his bed. He ran back to the living room for a moment, took his backpack, and went back to the bedroom. The kid waited for him sat on his bed, rubbing his eyes.

"Before you go to sleep, I want to give you something," Spain explained, sitting by his side. He pulled a book out of his bag and handed it to Gibraltar, who took it without questions. "It's an adapted version of _Don Quixote_ , by Miguel de Cervantes. I'm sure you must be fed up with Shakespeare," he winked.

"Thank— _Gracias_ ," Gibraltar smiled.

"And also, this…" What he took this time was a Spanish flag, which he tied around the kid's wrist. "So that you remember the great night we've had, huh?"

"Okay," he laughed, moving his arm from left to right to see the red and yellow wave.

"And one last thing!" Spain reached and, before Gibraltar could do anything about it, ruffled his hair, ignoring the protests. "You were too combed for my liking," he said, sticking his tongue out at him.

The kid was about to say something when he was interrupted by the sound of a car entering the garage.

"Hey, looks like England and France are back!" he exclaimed, suddenly awake once again, while he jumped to his feet and rushed to the door.

 _They're back already?_ Spain thought, surprised. _I thought Francis would let me know— Oh._ He checked his phone and, just as he feared, he had a bunch of unread messages.

* * *

**Group chat: Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!**

**Francis:** I don't think he liked hearing that XD  
**Francis:** he says he doesn't trust you  
**Francis:** we're going back  
**Francis:** Toni, are you reading these?  
**Francis:** we're going back!  
**Francis:** you'd better destroy any evidence of whatever you've been doing and pretend that you're a normal babysitter

 **Gilbert:** Francis, please, record Eyebrow's reaction  
**Gilbert:** it will break YouTube

 **Antonio:** I'm so dead  
**Antonio:** bye, guys, it was nice knowing you

* * *

The front door opened and England and France came in, both of them calling for Spain. The first one to meet them, however, was Gibraltar, who launched himself to England's arms.

"Hello, Alexan— What's that on your wrist?"

"It's a Spanish flag! Toni gave it to me. Oh! And he also gave me some _chupachups_ , and a copy of _Don Quixote_ , and— and— and he taught me how to dance the _Macarena_!"

"Did he now?", England muttered darkly, throwing a deadly glance at Spain, who had just joined them. "Alexander, it's late, why don't you go to bed?"

"Okay." He kissed him good-night and started to make his way to his bedroom; when he walked by Spain, he kissed him too. "Bye! I hope you come back another time!"

"So do I," he answered, trying to ignore the glare he could feel on himself. "Good night, Alejandro."

Once the kid was gone, Spain scratched the back of his neck and threw an innocent smile at England.

"Well, I think I'd better leave…"

* * *

**Group chat: Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!**

**Francis:** *video*

 **Gilbert:** HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 **Antonio:** it's not funny :(

 **Francis:** well, it WAS kinda funny  
**Francis:** I'd never thought Arthur would have a pepper spray with him  
**Francis:** and it's been a while since I last saw you run like that

 **Antonio:** =_=

 **Gilbert:** I love the part when you trip and fall and then he trips with you and falls  
**Gilbert:** I'm setting this as my ringtone

 **Antonio:** sometimes I wonder why we're friends

 **Gilbert:** because I'm awesome?

 **Francis:** because we're charming?

 **Antonio:** because we're a bunch of assholes, that's why

 **_Antonio changed the group name from "_ ** **Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!** **_" to "_ ** **The Bad Touch Trio strikes again!** **_"_ **

**Antonio:** now, if you excuse me, my eyes still burn from the pepper, so I'm going to leave  
**Antonio:** fuck Arthur

 **Francis:** gladly ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I love the BTT so very much :3 Just a couple of things:  
> (1) If you don't know who Blas de Lezo is or what happened in 1741— check Wikipedia. Or read "Sweet Child of Mine", it's explained in the fourth chapter :D  
> (2) If you don't know what Peblo is— good for you XD That bit was loosely related to another fanfic of mine, "The fun side of politics", which you can read for more information *shamelessly promotes herself*  
> The bits in Spanish were easy to understand, I think, but here are some translations:  
> -"Será capullo" = "What a bastard", more or less  
> -"Joder" = "Fuck"  
> -"Que os den" = "Fuck you"  
> And that's it! I hope you enjoyed it (I, myself, had a lot of fun writing it), reviews are more than welcome! :D


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